Inspiration
by DracoPotterLovesHarryMalfoy
Summary: Drabbles and one-shots with multiple pairings. Prompts are welcome and hugs are free! My first attempt at writing fanfiction...well, EVER! More information inside.
1. Depression

**A/N: Hello there! I've just started writing FF and decided that it might be easier to work my way in on a real length story by writing a few drabbles or one-shots before I get there. I'm using a random word generator for prompts but if you want me to write about something in particular PM me or put it in a review! Also be sure to specify what pairing you want in it.**

**Depression**

"Shhhh, it's ok Harry. Calm down, I'm right here." Ginny whispered in a soothing voice. She had been woken up by her husband's abrupt movements and screaming.

He had been like this since the war, and she couldn't blame him. He had seen things that no 17 year old boy should have to.

Harry's face was wet. He wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears and decided that it didn't matter. He couldn't take this anymore. It was driving him mad! The nightmares were never ending and what scared him is that he could do nothing about them. Under Ginny's comforting touch he fell asleep again.

The next morning, as he made breakfast, Ginny came up behind him and put her arms around his waist. She said nothing, just held him. It was enough for the moment.

As they ate breakfast, the only sounds were the utensils hitting the plates and the crunch of toast being bitten into. Finally, Ginny sighed, and broke the tension further by speaking.

"Harry, dear. Do you want to tell me about your nightmares?" Harry huffed and chewed slowly. Ginny raised her eyebrows. Harry sighed internally. _So much like her mother_, he thought wistfully. He swallowed and looked at his empty plate.

"Ginny," she cut off whatever excuse he was planning with a glare. "Fine. It's the same old dream where Voldemort storms into the castle and starts killing students left and right." Harry said in a nonchalant voice, as if commenting on the weather. Ginny seemingly approved of this and talked to Harry for a few minutes and promised to talk to him some more when she came home from work.

As Harry kissed her goodbye, he felt guilt in the pit of his stomach. He had lied to her, but it was for the best.

How do you tell the person you love most in the world that you have nightmares of them being brutally murdered every night? That you couldn't do anything to save them?

Thinking these questions over, Harry closed the door, ready to spend another day wallowing in his own depression.


	2. Grace

**Grace**

Harry watched, transfixed by the beautiful man on the other side of the room. The man moved with such grace, such poise. Every eye was on the man as he swept his wand back and forth, creating colors and building an image on the large canvas.

One might say that Harry was an art affictionato, but he wasn't there to look at the paintings, he was there to look at the man with the silver hair and the way he moved.

His movements were quick, but not erratic. His muscles moved sinuously giving him an almost feline elegance. His hands were refined with long, delicate fingers and slim wrists. His face was soft, yet had lovely angular cheekbones. His eyes were a misty grey, luminous as he watched his conjured paints splash across the canvas and form a picture.

Harry had been in love with this man for years. He had watched him silently from nearby, but had never had the courage to approach such a charming creature with his own graceless demeanor. He had been following the man to his many art exhibitions around the world, wearing a glamour, lest the man recognize him from the one previous.

The obvious glee in the man's motions were what had first attracted Harry to watching Draco Malfoy. To see someone who did something for the pure enjoyment of it was something rare in his world and it made him happy to see someone do so.

People had started clapping and he was pulled out of his careful contemplation of Draco to look at Draco's painting. As he looked, his mouth fell open and he looked straight at the painter who looked straight back at him and smiled.

It was a painting of a young man with sun-kissed skin and tousled black hair, looking at the audience with vibrant green eyes through round spectacles holding to him a pale, blond and smirking lover, and planting a kiss on his cheek.

**I wasn't too sure if this one came out well or not. I'm not sure that grace is a word I use all to often seeing as I'm pretty clumsy myself. I thought it would be cute to have a stalker!Harry and an artist!Malfoy in the same story. Tell me what you think! And give me some prompts!**

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	3. Touch Me

**Touch Me**

Albus bit down hard on the pale shoulder causing Scorpious to buck into his hand harder and faster. His breathing became more ragged as Albus continued to thrust into him, hitting his prostate with every pass.

Albus was so close, making whimpering noises that were muffled by Scorpious' neck. His cock was surrounded by silky heat that grabbed and released, leaving him pulsating and aching for relief. He licked up the other boy's neck and nibbled on the sensitive area behind his ear, tasting what was undeniably sex and sweat.

Scorpious was trying so hard to hold on, cursing under his breath as Albus' thumb caressed the head of his leaking cock as he stroked it slowly, twisting it as he neared the top and squeezing the base. He was seeing nothing but stars behind his eyelids as he forced Al's head towards him and placed a searing kiss on his lips. He could feel the end coming, so close…

And he woke up. His breathing was heavy and he was harder than he had ever been in his life. _Why now?_ They had even become friends! He had been going to Hogwarts with Albus for seven years and had been in perfect control of his urges, why was he so close to losing control now?

Breakfast was horrible. Albus had waved at him from across the hall as he walked in, a few minutes after Scorpious himself had entered. All Scorpious could see where those hands and he thought about how they had worked him in his dream. He was broken out of his lust-haze by Al himself, plopping down next to him at the Slytherin table.

It was pure torture watching the boy put food in his mouth, licking the jam off of the spoon, moaning as he bit into to his toast. Scorpious couldn't take it anymore. He got up, gave a rushed, nonsensical excuse and left the Hall.

He was muttering and pacing the hallway near the library when Al found him. The boy looked confused. His friend was obviously upset. Was it something he had done?

"Hey, Scor? You alright?" Scorpious' pacing only increased in vigor. Distressed, Al tried again.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" That stopped the other boy's pacing. He looked torn, like he wanted to tell Al, but couldn't.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? You're my best mate and—" Al was cut off as Scor attacked him, silencing him with his mouth. He was so shocked that he couldn't move. Finally, he responded hesitantly to the kiss and was further surprised by the moan Scorpious let out when he did.

As they pulled apart, Al saw his friend's eyes were darker and the pupil was dilated. He also noticed the way Scor's hair looked and the way his lips were red and puffy from their kiss. He was utterly beautiful. Albus had noticed before, but hadn't wanted to say anything that might ruin the friendship his father had assumed would be possible.

If Scorpious wanted him too, then to hell with everything. He dragged the other Slytherin into an alcove covered by an old tapestry and pressed him to the wall, attacking his lips with relish.

Albus could feel Scor's hardness through his robes and moaned into the kiss. Scorpious ran his hands down the other boy's back until he reached the curve of his ass and pulled him up so his legs were around his hips.

He ground his erection into Albus' answering hardness and turned them so it was Al who's back was against the wall. Panting, Scor released Al's lips in favor of devouring his neck, continuing to thrust his hips into the other Slytherin.

Albus started to cry out as he came, but the sound was captured as Scorpious fastened his lips back on Al's. Being close to edge himself, Scorpious thrust faster until he too came. The two boys slid down the wall, breathing heavily, large grins on their faces as they looked at one another.

Scorpious cast a cleaning charm on both of them and stood up, holding out a hand to Albus as well. Al grinned up at him and took it. Scor left and told Al to wait so as not to draw suspicion to them. He stayed for a few seconds, dusting off his pants and got out from behind the tapestry, watching Scorpious' ass as the other boy walked away,

_Man, can that boy _buck! he thought.

**Well, this is a little bit longer than a drabble…It was my first smut scene and I got a little carried away with it, I'll admit. I got this prompt from my Beta, a.k.a my boyfriend because he was running around the room singing the song 'Satisfaction' which is where I got the title from. The prompt itself was "The boy bucks" from the random word generator. We both kinda smirked and knew what we were going to do with this story, God bless dirty minds!**

**Hope you enjoy, give me some feedback!**


	4. Porn

**Porn**

Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, minding his own breakfast when his family stopped in front of him, nearly spilling his pumpkin juice, and proffered it's leg to him, urging him to take the letter that was attached.

Draco did so and rewarded the owl with a piece of bacon. It hooted in thanks and left the boy to his breakfast. Draco opened the benign letter, wondering whom it was from. There was nothing written on the envelope other than his name.

He opened the letter and found out, much to his shock that it was from his parents. It read:

_Dear Draco Malfoy, _

_Honey, how could you do this? I thought your father and I had raised you better than to go and do something like this! I am so ashamed of your behavior and don't know what to say. I am, quite frankly, scared to reveal any of this to your father for fear of what he might do to you…To sully the Malfoy name like this!_

_You have one week until school ends. Trust me, I will not have forgotten by then. You will receive your punishment when I tell your father! Yes, I have decided to tell him!_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Draco's mouth was wide open. What had he done that was so bad that his mother didn't even address the letter to 'her little Dragon'? And tell his father! Draco was horrified. He re-read the letter, trying to see if he could make out what it was all about. Ashamed of his behavior? Towards the Golden Trio? Did his mother wish him to be nicer to them?

He looked at the head table, wondering if Dumbledore and had finally decided to really stop people from pestering his favorite students. He would just have to improve his manners towards them, and perhaps everything at home would be forgiven.

During that week, Draco had helped Potter in potions class by stopping him from putting the wormwood in at the wrong stage, something that would have caused Potter a small but uncomfortable rash that Draco would have loved to laugh at.

He had also helped the Weasel by letting him borrow his broom maintenance kit when he overheard him complaining about how he needed one so that his Cleansweep would go faster. Rather than tell Weaselby that the issue with the broom wasn't the maintenance but the make, he had handed it over.

He had even helped that bushy-haired beaver girl too! She had been in the library, trying to reach a book and had gone to get the ladder when he Summoned the book from the shelf and gave it to her. Her shocked expression was worth the fact that he had done something _nice_ for her.

_Ha! Take that Wonder Boy and his Side-kicks! _ Draco thought to himself as he passed their compartment on the train and heard them discussing his strange behavior. When he got off the train, he hoped to see his mother smiling at him and hugging him and maybe even kissing him, if he let her, but saw instead their house-elf, Blinky, and his trunk.

Knowing that it must be bad if she didn't even come to pick him up, Draco went home with the elf, more frightened than he had ever been in his short, fourteen year old life. When he got inside the manor, the elf squeaked, "Master Lucius and Mistress Cissy are in the study. They is saying to Blinky to tell you to go."

Draco walked up the stairs to the study, like a man walking to his execution. He opened the door to the study to see his father sitting behind his desk, looking bemused and his mother sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, looking very melodramatic and disapproving.

Draco gulped and sat in the chair that was placed deliberately to be facing both his parents. His mother opened her mouth to speak, but Draco cut her off.

"Mother I'm so sorry! I tried to make it up to you—them, I swear! This whole last week I was nothing but helpful to Potter and his cohorts! I don't know what Dumbledore told you but it's all lies!"

Now Draco's father was even more confused. They had received no mail from the school about Draco's behavior as all mail was addressed to him, as Lord of the Manor. What were his wife and son going on about? Narcissa looked confused as well.

"Dumbledore? Potter? This has nothing to do with them! This has everything to do with _you_ and _your_ sullying of the Malfoy name!" Lucius looked as put-opon as any person who had no idea what anyone was talking about could.

Draco seemed to sink down in his chair. _ Not about Potter! Had he ruined his image of the nastiest Slytherin? _He hoped not. He would be extra horrible to Potter and his friends next year just to make sure.

"What is this about then?" Lucius asked, annoyed that his time was being wasted, but mostly because he had no clue what was going on. Narcissa pulled out a few magazines from inside her armchair and threw then dramatically on her husband's desk. Both he hand Draco leaned forward and were both met with the cover of Playboy Magazine.

"Here! I found this in Draco's room as I was watching the house-elf clean! How could he bring that sort of thing into this house?" She looked at her husband, expecting to find him red-faced with anger. Instead she saw that he was trying to conceal his laughter!

"Lucius! How can you _laugh_? Our _son_ has _porn_ stashed in his room? He has had this _filth__** under our roof!**_ How _dare_ he?" She was breathing heavily now, chest heaving. Draco had been afraid that she was going to slap him, but no matter what he had done, Narcissa couldn't lay a hand on her sweet baby boy. She did, however expect her husband to do something about it.

Lucius had stopped laughing, but still had a large smirk on his face.

"You're right my love. Leave me with him so I can punish him appropriately." Narcissa straightened herself up with a proud huff and left the room, giving Draco and pitying look as she did.

The boy turned to his father, waiting for him to say something. Lucius' smirk broadened into a smile as he took in the scared look on his son's face. _ All this over a little porn?_ He thought.

Deciding to put Draco out of his misery, he spoke,

"I'm not going to punish you, little Dragon. You do need to find a new hiding spot for these though." He said as he stood and ruffled his son's hair fondly as he left, leaving a stunned and awed Draco in his wake.


	5. Coming

**It seems that even the random word generator is a pervert now…**

**Coming**

Harry was tired. Snape had given them so much homework to do. They had to write two feet of parchment on the properties of salamander tails in conjunction with sunflower roots for the next day.

Ron groaned as he sat down in the chair opposite Harry in the common room.

"Snape is such a git." Harry snorted.

"Could have told you that, mate." Hermione rolled her eyes as she joined her two best friends in front of the fire. Both boys reluctantly dug in their bags and pulled out their quills and parchment knowing that procrastination wasn't an option with her there.

They worked in companionable silence for about ten minutes before Harry gave up. He threw his quill down on the table with a frustrated huff. How did Snape expect then to do this? There weren't even two pages on the subject in their textbooks! Even Hermione was rifling through the books pages, trying to find any other references to light providing potions with her brow furrowed. It was Ron who finally said something.

"What is his bloody problem? How can we write two bloody feet on something that's barely covered in the text?" Harry leaned back in his chair.

"He needs to be sorted out properly." He declared.

"Or buggered properly." Ron said with a snicker. Hermione smacked him upside the head without looking up from her textbook, and he shrugged.

"What? It's true? When is the last time the greasy bat got laid?" Harry closed his eyes, not even wanting to think about it, but unable to stop. _When _was _the last time Snape got laid?_ He started thinking about the way Snape's eyes would spark when he was insulting Harry or the way his lips curved to deliver the sneer that was especially for Harry.

He sat up in his seat, grinning. He had a solution.

"I'm going to go and set Snape straight." Hermione finally lifted her head from her book to look at him.

"Harry! What are you thinking! You could make this worse for everybody!" He ignored her and exited out of the portrait hole into the hallway.

He went down the stairs, steadily until he got to the dungeons. He heard some noises echoing and hid behind the large statue of a snake. It was Filch and Mrs. Norris patrolling the halls. Harry berated himself silently for not thinking to bring his invisibility cloak with him.

He waited until they had passed far enough that they wouldn't hear his footsteps echoing as he made his way to Snape\s private room. He pulled the map out of his pocket (this he brought with him everywhere) and tapped it with his wand, intoning, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

It was nowhere near false.

Opening the map he saw himself outside of Snape's rooms and a small speech bubble appeared with the word 'asphodel' in it. Harry said the word, and the wards on the rooms went down. He opened slightly and saw Snape sitting by the fire reading a book.

When the man wasn't sneering, his face looked so much younger, so much more pleasant. Harry wondered how old the professor actually was. He wished that he had brought the cloak with him now, but thought that, maybe, if he had had it, he wouldn't have had the courage to do what he did.

The door swung open soundlessly and Harry stepped through, closing it behind him. At the sound of the door latching closed, Snape looked up. Seeing Harry, he closed his book abruptly and stood up.

"Mr. Potter. To what do I owe the pleasure of you breaking into my _private _rooms?" Harry swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.

"The homework assignment you gave us was extremely unfair, and you know it. I've come to set you straight." Snape said nothing, but raised an eyebrow in obvious contempt.

"Set me straight? May I ask _how_?" He growled. Harry pushed his nervousness down and rushed forward. Before Snape could react, Harry's lips were on his and Harry's hands were on both sides of his face, holding him in place.

Harry was waiting for the hex to hit and pulled back when it didn't. Snape was looking at him, eyes half lidded, his lips puffy and red from Harry's kiss. Harry ran his hands through Snape's hair gently, reveling in the softness. It wasn't greasy at all, just incredibly smooth.

Snape observed the boy as he pulled back. His glasses were askew and his hair was even more of a mess than it was before. The boy's bright green eyes were focused on his face, confused by his rather passive reaction. He leaned forwards and captured Harry's mouth with his own again.

Harry moaned into his professor's mouth, happy he wasn't getting hexed or poisoned. Snape pulled Harry closer to him and Harry felt his erection against his stomach. He gently pushed Snape back onto the chair he had found him on when he first entered and broke the kiss.

Snape looked at Harry in askance, but was given a chaste kiss instead. Harry stood in between the older man's legs and knelt down on his knees. Luckily, Snape didn't wear his robes in his rooms so unbuttoning his trousers and freeing his erection was simple.

Harry looked at Snape's cock with wonder as he stroked it slowly. Snape moaned and his head fell back as Harry used his other hand to fondle the professor's balls. He continued this treatment until Snape's hips were thrusting into his hand, and stopped stroking.

Snape made a noise that Harry had never imagined he could make that sounded somewhere between a whimper and a pleading cry. Harry leaned forward and blew on the head of Snape's leaking cock. Snape bucked involuntarily, making the noise again. Harry thought this was the best moment to get what he wanted.

"Do you want to come, professor?" Snape nodded vigorously. Harry shook his head and grinned like the cat that got the cream and lowered his head enough that his mouth was directly over the weeping head of his teacher's cock.

"Promise me something them." The breath from his words was warm as it fanned across Snape's balls. He groaned and nodded.

"Anything." Harry licked a stripe up Snape's length and the man shuddered.

"No more ridiculous homework assignments." Snape exhaled and nodded. Harry nodded in return and put the head of Snape's length in his mouth, working his way down. One of his hands rolled the man's balls while the other covered what Harry couldn't fit in his mouth.

Harry's tongue swirled around the head as his throat convulsed each time he swallowed. Snape's hands were clenched on the arms of his chair as he saw stars. A chocking gasp left his mouth as he came, hard.

Harry swallowed the torrent of liquid and licked his lips after he released the slowly softening member with a 'pop'. Snape's breathing was heavy and he was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face.

Harry didn't come back to the common room that night. Hermione and Ron stayed up as long as they could waiting for him, but didn't see him until double Potions, after breakfast.

The rest of the class had filed in after them, so they took their seats. Snape made no snarky comments towards the Gryffindors and made no mention of the essay he had assigned them the day before.

The scariest thing, Ron would later say, was the fact that the git was actually smiling!


	6. Pudding

**Pudding**

They were seated at the Gryffindor table, across from Harry who was waving at his boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, from across the hall. Hermione was sitting next to Ron and talking to him while he was eyeing the creamy dessert in his plate with interest.

Hermione noticed this and stopped talking. Ron continued with his affirmative sounds and intermittent noises for a full three minutes after she had stopped talking before he noticed her silence.

"Am I not interesting enough for you, Ronald?" she asked archly, rising and taking her bag with her as she stomped out of the Great Hall. Ron looked stunned and Harry was shaking his head pityingly at his friend.

Ron walked up to Gryffindor tower with Harry and Draco behind him, whispering. He entered the common room and sat down next to Hermione. She ignored him until she was finished with her assignment, then stood and went up the staircase that led to the girl's dormitory.

Ron sighed, Harry shook his head empathically and Draco sniggered behind his hand. The redhead glared at the two boys tangled on the sofa adjacent to him and went back to moping.

Harry cleared his throat. Ron didn't react. Draco coughed obnoxiously, scaring some first years, and still Ron didn't so much as blink. Ginny, who was sitting in the chair next to her brother smacked him soundly on the back of the head with a book and, finally, he looked up.

"What?" he asked, looking around at the three people gazing at him in wonder.

"He's so oblivious," Malfoy said, awed. " If this works then he better learn quick!" Harry and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"What works?"

"When you're dating someone, things can get a little boring, yes. What you don't do is _get caught_ pretending to listen! I've done that so many times that I'm not sure why Draco is still going out with me!" Draco lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at his boyfriend.

"What the buffoon is trying to say, is that, you have to show her that she's important to you, whether you're interested in what she's saying at the moment or not."

"Hermione and I aren't—" Ginny cut Ron off.

"We_ know_ that! That's what we're trying to change!" Ron nodded slowly, finally understanding. The others got closer to him and started whispering their ideas for a plan.

Right before dinner, Ron caught Hermione and pulled her off into a deserted hallway. His ears were bright red. He looked over Hermione's shoulder to see Harry, Ginny and Draco giving him the thumbs up. He sighed, looking at the notes he had taken on his hand, and began to read.

"Umm, Hermione…I wanted to apologize for what happened at lunch today. I wanted to make it up to you by taking you out to dinner in Hogsmead to show that you're very important to me wheth—" she cut him off, pressing her lips to his. Ron froze, surprised, and returned the kiss. They snogged for a good two minutes before Draco's obnoxious fake coughing broke them apart.

Hermione looked around for a source and gave up when she saw the grin that was on Ron's face, echoing it with one of her own.

"I'm important to you?" she asked sweetly. Ron nodded, bemused.

"More important than pudding?"


	7. Paperthin Hymn

**Paperthin Hymn**

Draco lay alone on his hotel room bed with his eyes closed. He made sure that he kept his Tempus charm's alarm set to wake him every 15 minutes because he was afraid to go to sleep.

Draco Malfoy was afraid to go to sleep because he was afraid that if he did, the day would never come and he'd never see tomorrow. Not that he really wanted to anyway, The only person that kept him grounded was gone, and with him took Draco's will to live and his heart, replacing it with a paper mockery that couldn't feel love or pain.

If he fell asleep he'd see the one person that had made his life worth living, then have him ripped away again with the first rays of the morning sun. Draco Malfoy would do anything to have one sleepless night grant him bitter oblivion.

He thought back to times when he was happier. Moments when he still had friends, moments when he still had _him_.

His most fond memory of happiness was an August evening, a year ago. However, that memory was marred by the memory of an August evening that had occurred only a month ago.

It was their anniversary and Harry was late coming home that night. Draco was starting to get worried. He had told Harry there was no reason for him to be an Auror. He had argued that they both had enough money that they didn't need to work and that Draco's beloved could remain safe where Draco could protect him forever.

To this Harry had smiled lovingly at his blond lover and cupped his face in his hands.

"I know, Draco. This is just something that I have to do. I promise I'll be here for you to protect forever."

He had kissed Draco tenderly and their peace was made…for then.

Harry still wasn't home at midnight and Draco was beginning to full-out panic. He had fire-called Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Blaise and none of them had known where Harry was. Draco was seriously considering contacting the Minister himself when an owl flew in the window.

The envelope it carried was a pale green that instilled pure terror in Draco. It was a St. Mungo's missive. He snatched it from the owl's claws, ignoring the indignant hoot it gave as it flew back out.

More and more dread welled up in Draco's heart as he neared the end of the letter. It was cleverly vague, asking him to come in as quickly as he could. Harry had been in an accident and was in intensive care. Draco rushed out the front door, pausing only to grab a coat, reached the Apparation point, and disappeared.

He got to the hospital and walked brusquely to the front desk. As he approached, the receptionist became increasingly alarmed. Draco knew he looked both terrified and demented with tears running down his face and his eyes wide with fear.

He got Harry's room number and flew up the stairs, nearly knocking down a nurse carrying empty bedpans as he did. He burst into the room indicated by the sheet of paper clenched in his left hand and nearly threw up as he saw what was there.

His beautiful lover was looking paler than death and his breathing was too shallow and looked painful His pupils were extremely dilated as he looked at the ceiling and he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

It looked like living was becoming too much of an effort for Harry's body to take. His hair was looking dangerously dark compared to his sallow complexion. Draco chocked back a sob drawing Harry's eyes from the ceiling to look in his direction.

Harry was looking directly at him, but it was like eh couldn't see Draco at all. The scared man looked at the entering nurse, demanding to know what had happened.

"He was hit by a dark curse in a duel with a potions dealer at noon today. _Rictus Excruciatus_, to be precise."

Draco stiffened, that spell was much like Avada Kedavra and the Cruciatus curse combined. In fact, that's what it was. It killed the person it hit slowly, painfully and undeniably.

Harry was dying.

Enraged, Draco flew off the handle, cornering the nurse against a wall with his hand pressed into it right next to her head to prevent her from escaping.

"_NOON?_ Why didn't you alert me sooner?" he bellowed. The nurse began to shiver in fear at the man in front of her. His teeth were bared and the tendons in his arms were standing out. He looked like he wanted to hurt her. Tears ran down her face as she tried to explain.

"He wasn't conscious yet." She whimpered.

Harry finally turned his head to look at Draco,

"Dragon?" he said, voice barely louder than a whisper. "Is that you?"

Draco turned away from the petrified nurse with one more glare and moved to his lover's bedside; the nurse slumped down on the floor, her relief evident.

Harry reached out slowly and Draco, knowing what he wanted, placed his hand in Harry's, holding it tight.

"Were you terrorizing my nurse?" he asked softly, a faint smile on his face. He knew that when Draco found out he had been cursed that everyone would pay. Draco became aggressive when scared, one of the traits that had led to his survival during the Great Battle.

Draco snorted disdainfully, not deigning to look back at the woman who was still sitting on the floor.

"And if I did?" He countered, stroking the back of Harry's hand with his thumb.

"They might not ever let you back in here, even if you get sick someday."

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to come pouring down his face. Harry always took care of him when he was sick and often teased him about pretending just to be doted on.

Those days would never happen again.

As if sensing his partner's returning despair, Harry tried to sit up, muscles straining feebly to push him upright. Draco helped him into the proper position and returned to his chair next to Harry.

"I don't have much time left, love." Draco knew this. The spell took effect over twenty-four hours and Harry had already been in the hospital for twelve.

Draco began to cry softly, pressing his forehead to Harry's stomach. He felt a weak hand begin to caress his hair and felt a small amount of comfort.

Draco would never feel this way about anybody ever again. He had thought he would never love or be loved after the war, but Harry being who he was thanked Draco for saving his life and the two became friends. After spending much time in each other's company, Harry declared his feelings to Draco and was surprised when the other man had simply kissed him and told him that he loved him.

Harry had made him into the man he was today, the man who was able to walk around feeling good about himself because he knew he had someone at home who loved him and didn't care what other's said about him. He would never find that anywhere else.

Harry, thinking along the same lines, sighed. He wasn't going to spend his last few hours crying and moping. He moved his hand so that his finger was under Draco's chin. Draco looked up at Harry, eyes red and glistening.

"Love, don't cry. Please, tell me about how everyone is." Grateful for the distraction, Draco dove into tales of how the others had spent their day and how they were feeling. The talk went on for several hours because Harry interjected with questions every few answers. Draco finally fells asleep beside Harry on the bed, arms around his lover.

He woke up much later to see Harry's eyes becoming hazy. He cast a Tempus charm. It was eleven. He had one more hour with Harry.

He shifted, so he was facing his dying lover and pressed their foreheads together.

"Harry, I love you more than anything on this earth. I don't know how I'm going to live without you. I don't know if I can." Tears ran down his face again, dropping onto the bed sheets making perfect little circles of wet.

"You're it for me. The only thing that was keeping me going. Without you, I can't go on. You were my first love, my first kiss, my first everything of meaning. My first and my only." His voice was low and rough but Harry could hear it clearly enough. He didn't want it to end like this, for Draco's life to end like this. He closed his eyes.

They stayed like that for a while, breathing in each others breath when Harry spoke. His voice was weak and barely audible, but Draco heard everything.

"I'm glad I gave you purpose, but your life can't end with me. You are the most important thing in the world to me. I don't want you to give up on everything just because I'm gone." He took a sharp breath when a flash of pain went through his body.

"He opened his eyes and said with conviction, " You _will_ go on living without me. You _will_ go on, period." He paused for breath. " Draco, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Draco pressed his lips on Harry's, laying him back on the pillows. When he broke the kiss, he looked into Harry's glassy, unseeing eyes and let out a cry that would haunt all those who heard it for years.

He left the hospital. He went home. He ate. He slept. He organized a funeral. He went to the funeral, said his goodbye, and was never seen by anyone who knew him ever again.

That brought him here, back to the present. Back to the hotel room he was leaving. He had grieved. He would go back and do what Harry had told, no _ordered_ him to do as his dying wish. He would go back to the life he had had before with Harry and try to live it without Harry.

He knew one thing for sure though, as he looked into his own empty, soulless eyes in the rear-view mirror of the taxi taking him to the airport.

Without Harry, it wouldn't be living.

**I actually started to cry while writing this. I started **_**sobbing**_** after writing Draco's wail though…**

**The prompt for this one was the song Paperthin Hymn by Anberlin. It basically wrote itself… I never knew that I could write something so dark and so **_**hopeless.**_** I guess it comes to show that everybody has a little bit of darkness in them…**

**I wanted to dedicate this to Kalira69, but I don't think this should be dedicated to anyone…My heart hurts.**

**Feel like shit now… all depressed and stuff…going to bed. Goodnight. I'll get my boyfriend to post it for me later, hopefully after some cuddling and some tea.**


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